Jake's Love (Courthouse Connections, #7) Page 4
“Oh, yes. I told Mommy she ought to marry you. I’m glad she listened. Patches,” she called out, and when the puppy barked, Joci bounded off to find him. Jake wished he could follow her.
Instead he sat there sipping a vanilla flavored latte, listening while Meghan tried to cool her mother’s enthusiasm before giving up and saying that they’d talk more later, but they had to get Joci home in time for dinner.
Relieved to be going, Jake carried Patches and Tigerlily in their respective carriers and set them on the backseat of his car next to the booster seat he’d bought before picking Meghan up last night. “Come on, sweetie, let’s get you buckled up.”
● ● ●
Jake had been called to the hospital to assist with an organ harvest as soon as they got back to her place, and Meghan tried to tamper down Joci’s enthusiasm about standing under the chuppah with her and Doctor Jake. “It may not happen that way, sweetie,” she told her, explaining that she and Jake would be just as married if they had a civil ceremony.
Still Joci wanted to see what the wedding party might look like, so Meghan picked up a sketchpad and charcoal and drew a simple chuppah, with silhouettes of a wedding party, including a little girl standing by her grandparents. Frowning, because she had no idea if any members of Jake’s family would even attend, she added several more silhouettes, trying not to worry that the man she loved might be permanently alienating himself from his loved ones by marrying her.
Finally she distracted her daughter by telling her they were all going to Grandpa’s on Tuesday, and Joci went to bed happy. Patches curled up at her feet while Tigerlily did her nightly patrol of the house, ending up purring on Meghan’s lap. As she stroked the cat’s soft fur, she let her mind wander...to Jake and their future. She wouldn’t see him again until he picked them up early Tuesday to go to her dad’s place.
But time moved quickly.
● ● ●
Her first surprise when he came to get them on Tuesday morning was a beautiful diamond solitaire, not too big and not too small, but perfect in Meghan’s unschooled opinion.
After Jake put it on her finger he grinned. “I thought I’d better put some bling on your finger before I face your dad. If you don’t like it, we can go to the jeweler and trade it for another one.”
Meghan wouldn’t have thought about exchanging what he’d chosen for her, even if it hadn’t been exactly what she’d have chosen for herself. But the ring was all she’d ever dreamed of, more than she’d expected since she didn’t think engagement rings were part of the Orthodox rite of marriage. “I love it. Love you.” She threw her arms around Jake, making Joci laugh when Jake lifted her off the ground and gave her a big kiss, too.
She pointed to the picnic basket and cooler she’d set on the top step of the porch. “We need to take those. I promised my dad some of my homemade chicken salad. Did you bring a swimsuit?”
“Yes.” Jake bent and whispered in her ear. “Can’t wait to see me almost naked, huh?”
She turned and nibbled at his chin. “Silly. I’ve already seen all you’ve got—and I like it. A lot. Come on, or we’ll never get to Englewood and onto Lemon Bay where Dad lives before noon. Joci, go on out to Jake’s car while we bring out our stuff. Don’t forget your beach bag.” Handing a small multicolor string-tie bag to her daughter, Meghan picked up her own larger bag and reached for the picnic basket. But Jake got to it first.
“Let me, sweetheart. You don’t always have to be so strong.” With no apparent effort, he set the basket on top of her blue cooler and took them to his car, stowing them in the trunk. “There’s nothing in here that you’re going to need on the way, is there?”
“No. Unless you haven’t eaten this morning and would like a sandwich or some cookies, or a cold drink.”
“I had coffee and a cinnamon roll at the hospital. That will do me until we get there. Come on, Joci, and I’ll fasten you in your brand-new booster seat.” Jake obviously adored her little girl, and that made Meghan smile.
Ever the gentleman, Jake opened the door for her before walking to the driver’s side and sliding under the wheel. “Buckle up, and we’ll be off.” Meghan noticed when he drove that his motions were smooth, efficient—and while he hovered around five miles over the speed limit on I-75, she felt totally certain he’d take care of them all.
● ● ●
Jake related well with Michael Miller, a garrulous sort who seemed genuinely pleased that Meghan had found a soulmate. While Meghan took Joci to play on the beach across from the condo, the two men sat on the patio facing Lemon Bay and talked while they munched on the chicken salad sandwiches and relishes that Meghan had brought from home, washing them down with imported beer from her dad’s refrigerator.
“You know Meghan’s mother wants us to have a formal wedding, don’t you?” Jake asked.
“Yes indeed, I know all about the three-ring circus Teri has in mind for your wedding. And I pretty much know my daughter wants something less ostentatious. Don’t worry, I’ll handle Teri. After all, I still hold the purse strings when it comes to anything her alimony won’t cover, such as a fifty-thousand-dollar wedding.” The older man laughed. “Don’t worry about there being fireworks. Teri and I might not be able to live together any longer after twenty years of looking across the table at each other every day, but we’re still friends. Whatever happens, the wedding won’t be World War III. If you and Meghan want something to knock Tampa society on its heels, that’s fine. If you’d rather have a civil wedding and invite a few friends, that’s okay, too.”
World War III. Michael might be certain there wouldn’t be one between him and his ex-wife, but Jake had no such illusions about his own family. “Did Teri tell you I come from an Orthodox background?”
“Nope. You might have mentioned it to her, but I doubt that it would have registered with her. Her head is spinning with guest lists and attendants and ten thousand dollar wedding gowns. Come to think of it, the Orthodox issue might have hit a chord in the back of her mind, because she mentioned trying to find a hotel or country club that would do a kosher meal for the reception.” He paused, leaned over the patio table.
If only that were the only complication, Jake wouldn’t have worried about his mother’s reaction, at least not much. Meeting Michael’s gaze, he dropped the bombshell. “I’m a Levite. I won’t be, though, after Meghan and I get married.”
“Oh, shit. Let’s see if I’ve got this right. Levites get to approach the Torah before other Jews in the congregation, and they’re supposed to marry virgins, not widows. Especially widows who were married to non-Jews.”
Jake nodded. “Actually, we’re only supposed to marry virgins or widows of other Levites. Of course the actual duties Levites perform these days are down to almost nothing, but there’s still that hierarchy thing that means a lot to the older people who’ve stayed true to all or most of the old traditions. My father has been dead for twenty years, but Mother...well, Mother’s as Orthodox as she could be without belonging to one of the ultra-Orthodox sects. So are my grandmothers—although one of them actually is Hasidim.”
“So, are you telling me your mom’s going to give my baby a real hard time?”
Jake shrugged. “You hit it on the head. She’s likely to be the mother-in-law from hell. I’ll do everything I can to shield Meghan, but I won’t be able to deflect all the criticism. Fortunately Mama lives in Atlanta, so she won’t be dropping over to visit every week or so.”
Michael frowned then leveled his gaze on Jake. “Are you two planning to observe Orthodox laws? I’ll be honest, I doubt Meghan could handle some of that. I doubt I could watch her change from being a modern, vibrant woman into a tradition-obsessed homebody. I’ve nothing against being observant in most respects, but I can’t understand some folks not moving along with the times.”
“That won’t happen. Meghan and I have already discussed this. I love her exactly as she is. I don’t want her to change a thing about herself, except to keep a Kosher kitc
hen so that if my family members should ever visit, they’ll feel free to eat in our house.” Jake paused. “I’ve gotten away from many of the old traditions since I’ve been away from home. Some of those laws, like the Mikveh as an example, don’t mesh well with a lot of the things I’ve learned in my medical training. Also, it’s impossible for doctors, surgeons in particular, to always observe the Shabbat according to the rules. Or the high holy days, either for that matter.
“Besides, I see nothing immoral about a woman being beautiful and stylish, and in my business, I need a wife who can relate easily to the wives of other doctors I work with, hospital administrators, and so on. Meghan’s perfect for me.”
For a long minute Michael gazed out at Lemon Bay as a pair of sailboats passed under the raised bridge to the mainland. “Well, son, you’ve got my blessings. What can I do to make this marriage easier for your mother to swallow?”
“Tone down Teri’s wedding plans. I told her I doubted we could find a rabbi willing to marry us, and that’s true, although for different reasons than she probably thinks. Since it’s Meghan’s second marriage, we both would prefer a civil ceremony, outdoors, maybe even on your beach, with just a few witnesses for the Ketubah and a minyan to offer some prayers.”
“I can arrange that. As a matter of fact, I may be able to come up with a Reform rabbi who’ll officiate outside the temple, if we do it down here.” Michael smiled, as if it pleased him to thwart his ex-wife. Then he looked out toward the water, said nothing for quite a while as he finished his beer. “I don’t want to upset Teri—trust me, she can be a real bitch.
“What I’d like to propose is that you let us host a big reception in Tampa after you come back from your honeymoon, to formally announce your marriage and introduce you to our friends and yours. Strictly a social gathering, with good food and drinks and dancing. I think Teri will buy into that once I’ve explained why she’s not going to get her wish to outshine a long-time rival of hers. In fact, I’m almost sure of it, since I’ll open up the wallet so she can make as big a splash as she wants with the reception. I imagine she’ll call the wedding itself a destination affair, to make her friends think we’ve shelled out big-time for not one but two parties.”
Jake was beginning to understand how Michael had been such a success in business. He obviously knew how to satisfy tough customers, if his dealings with Teri gave a fair example. “We’ll enjoy the reception, I’m sure. Even though I’m not in a specialty like pediatrics or obstetrics where schmoozing and word of mouth has a lot to do with doctors’ financial success or failure, it’s always good to meet new potential patients. Not that I’d wish liver failure or end-stage renal disease on any child—or any adult, for that matter. Mostly, I’ll look forward to meeting more of Meghan’s friends. Other than other doctors on staff at the hospitals where I work, I haven’t had the opportunity to meet many Tampa people since moving there from Atlanta.”
After consulting their calendars and consulting with Teri over the phone, they settled on dates, the second Sunday in May for the wedding and the third Saturday in August for the party. The wedding, not quite two months away, would be on the beach, with dinner afterward at a private dining room in the marina where Michael kept his boat. Teri would make arrangements and let them know where she could book the dinner reception at this late date.
A satisfied grin on his face, Michael turned to Jake. “We’ll leave the details about clothes, flowers and such to the women. Meanwhile, let’s go down and take a look at the beach. I can bring my granddaughter back inside for her nap, and you and your fiancée can enjoy the sand and surf before you have to head back home.”
● ● ●
“I like your dad.” Jake held Meghan’s hand as they strolled along the white sand, a weak incoming tide occasionally splashing on their bare feet. “Are you okay with having our wedding down here?”
“I’m better than okay, I’m thrilled. This is one of my favorite places. I’m looking forward to us making a lot of new memories down here. See that little inlet? I used to look for hermit crabs there when I was little. Almost nobody goes there.” She led the way through a little section of mangroves to a sheltered spot dotted with small pools of tidewater. “Let’s sit awhile.”
What Jake had in mind involved more than sitting. He helped her spread the blanket he’d been carrying then checked the pathway and the view through dense mangroves.
“Worrying about company coming?” The little tease took her time removing the wrap skirt she had on over a black bikini then untied the top and put it in her bag.
Oh, yeah. He was more worried about whether he’d be able to resist making love to her—and he had no condoms with him. There was no place to carry one in his beach shorts. Maybe... He glanced at her beach bag. “Do you have any...”
“No, but I don’t care. It’s the wrong time of month for me, and even if we’re blessed, we’re getting married in less than two months. Come here and show me how much you love me.”
They lay together, a light breeze playing on their bodies. He loved the spontaneity, the lusty way she explored him, her touch playful, arousing. The idea of making her pregnant aroused him more, and when she wrestled his swim shorts down and fondled his sex, what little hesitation he’d had flew out to sea. “Ride me,” he told her, not willing to wait to make love, naked skin to naked skin, with nothing between them.
She had no inhibitions, and he loved it. Riding him like an expert, she squeezed him with her inner muscles, brushed her fingers over his suddenly sensitive chest. The diamond on her finger caught the sun’s rays, gave him a new sensation. Of possession. Of her belonging to him not just today but for always. He took her breasts in his hands, imagined them full of milk to nourish his child. Someday.
It was too damn soon, but he was coming and there wasn’t a thing he could do to hold off. He’d have pulled out, more from habits learned as a brash teenager than from any fear about becoming a biological dad nine months from now. But Meghan grasped his hips, held him to her, kneaded his buttocks while she milked him dry. Still coming in long, hard spurts, he drew her down on top of him and cradled her in his arms. He didn’t feel thirty-six, and he surprisingly felt no guilt. A wedding was only ritual words. This was his vow and hers, made under God’s own sky. Their promise to each other, as valid as the one they’d make when they signed the prenuptial covenant—the Ketubah.
Chapter Five
That night after dropping Meghan and Joci off at her place, Jake had to spend the night at the hospital, waiting in the surgeon’s lounge for a donor kidney to arrive on a chartered jet from Chicago. His boss, Maury Kramer, was waiting there too, along with Maury’s younger brother Sam, a fertility specialist whose pregnant patient was the potential recipient of the kidney. The patient’s labs had been completed, matched to acceptable levels of compatibility, and rechecked multiple times. They’d done everything that could be done ahead of having the kidney in their hands to assess its viability.
Every few minutes, Sam got up and paced. Nerves, he said. “Damn it, the Andersons have been trying for years to have a baby. It’s not fair that she should go into acute renal failure now. Maury, can she can have the transplant without losing the fetus?”
“I don’t know, Sam. We’ll do our damnedest. It’s not doing you any good to pace the floor,” Maury said, getting up and putting an arm around his brother’s shoulder. “I asked Jake to scrub in because he at least has observed a kidney transplant on a pregnant patient.”
Beth Anderson had been having twice weekly dialysis now for several weeks, with no improvement, but so far she hadn’t spontaneously aborted her twenty-two week old fetus. Maury had called Jake in, when he ordinarily would have let the third year resident assist on a kidney transplant, because Jake had observed the chief of transplant surgery attempt a transplant like this one at Emory during his second year of residency. That patient had survived, but the pregnancy had not. A week after the transplant, she had delivered a stillborn infant.
“Dr. Kramer, the plane has landed and the kidney is on its way here.” When the circulating nurse on the transplant team relayed that news from the door of the lounge, all three surgeons headed for the scrub room.
Two hours and forty minutes later, the procedure was finished. “So far, so good,” said Sam, who had been monitoring the fetus on ultrasound while Maury sutured the donated kidney in place beside the patient’s ruined left one. Jake had assisted, marveling as he did every time he observed his boss at the older man’s skill and dexterity as well as his dedication.
“Jake, will you check for leaks before I close the incision?” Maury asked.
When Maury stepped aside, Jake took his place, adjusted the operative microscope, and examined all the internal suture points. “Looks good. Do you want me to close her?”
“Go ahead. I apologize for keeping you up all night.”
“No problem. I hope Mrs. Anderson can hold onto the pregnancy another few weeks. If she can, she should be able to deliver a viable preemie.”
Back in the lounge, Sam took off his scrubs and sighed. “I’ve delivered half a dozen babies whose mothers had kidney transplants before they got pregnant, and one whose mom had undergone a heart transplant. None of those were half as terrifying as the case you two just finished. Thanks for everything. At her age, Mrs. Anderson shouldn’t try again, so prayers about her being able to deliver that little boy they want so much will be appreciated. I’m going to tell her husband she’s made it through surgery.”
Maury shook his head. “Don’t mind Sam. He’s as worried about Marcy as he is about his patient. They just remarried last month, and she thinks she may be pregnant. She miscarried six or seven years ago, and divorced Sam not long after that.”